


Meteor Shower

by CupidStrikes



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-16
Updated: 2011-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-26 03:50:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/278353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupidStrikes/pseuds/CupidStrikes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“There ain’t no place in your head far enough that I can’t find you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meteor Shower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daphnerunning](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daphnerunning/gifts).



The man, Jake, is close enough that he can smell the hint of brandy and stale tobacco on his breath when he chuckles. Ivan’s stomach turns and he’s shaking. He’s vaguely aware of the world pitching back and forth in his peripheral vision, though all he sees is Jake – towering over him, intimidation and fear making him seem all the more ominous. Rough, hot fingers touch him, running down his cheek and suddenly Ivan is shamefully aware that he’s crying. Jake smirks cruelly, admiring the wetness on his hand before locking eyes with Ivan,

“Aw, does baby miss his mommy?” That laugh is raucous and jarring amidst the ringing in Ivan’s ears, and he forgets to feel offended over the jab at his age. Those fingers are back all too soon, caressing his jaw and grazing over his tight undersuit. Jake grins at him, baring his crooked teeth, and the realisation that he can feel _everything_ makes Ivan’s insides convulse with disgust, his body trying to arch away from that unwanted touch. Jake is fast,  though, and powerful, and Ivan finds himself pinned on the ground. Small stones and stray bits of debris dig into his back, cutting through the thin fabric with ease and leaving small prickles of pain up and down his prone body.

 _Don’t panic, Ivan, stay calm. Don’t humiliate yourself!_

It’s hard, though, when he can feel how much Jake is enjoying this, and Ivan struggles not to panic, not to beg and plead for Jake not to do that- anything but that. Ivan forgets how to speak and in that moment he is as helpless as a child, unable to talk or even run for his life. Jake’s fingers scrape over his hardly-clothed body, probing, searching. He gives up after a moment, and simply tears the fabric with one sharp tug,

“I’ll show you what I do to little boys who don’t know their place,” he laughs, leaning close, and Ivan turns his face away from that cloying, sickening breath, closing his eyes tight and willing it away, “there ain’t no place in your head far enough that I can’t find you.” Jake whispers, and grasps a fistful of the torn fabric hanging at Ivan’s chest, uses it to drag the boy a few inches off the ground then shove him back down hard enough to startle him from whatever daze he’d been hoping himself into. Blinking bright lights from his vision, Ivan reluctantly stares up at the villain, knowing it’s what he wants. Jake’s eyes glow orange, and Ivan only has time to open his mouth before he’s sent sprawling by another of those…Strange little explosion things he keeps firing. He’s catapulted a few feet in the air, and he hits the floor on his side, rolling once so he’s sprawled on his front. Ivan gasps for air, wheezes and chokes, clutching at his chest when pain bursts from it. The ground feels like marshmallows, and his body jerks with motion sickness. Jake strides towards him, his footsteps hollow crunches in the static that fills Ivan’s mind. He raises a hand, and it begins again.

Ivan loses count of the amount of times he’s sent tumbling across the dirty floor outside the warehouses. He’s gasping for breath now, tasting blood and dust in every mouthful, and hoping with each one that his chest will expand properly. He’s light-headed from the diminished amount of air, and the pain that winds him with every retraction of his diaphragm. He’s quite sure he’s never been in this much pain before. Jake isn’t done, though,  and Ivan can only brace himself as the man approaches him once more.

The blow he’s expecting never comes, and he instead is suddenly shoved onto his front, crying out as it constricts his breathing further, and a boot plants itself firmly into the small of his back. It grinds, and Ivan sobs in pain,

“Not so heroic now, uh? Poor little ninja with nowhere to hide.” Jake laughs, and Ivan cringes, not able to think of even the meagrest excuse for his failure to even protect himself.

Edward…I’m so sorry. Guess I won’t be waiting for you after all…

He gasps in relief when that heavy foot is removed, only to hiss when a warm palm curls itself over the curve of his ass. What, wait…! He twists, then forces his way through the abortive motion his body reflexively pulls when it _hurts_. Must get away…Must….

Jake is heavier than he expected, settling his weight over Ivan. One hand strokes the back of his neck fondly, _petting_ him. The fingers dip round to press against his throat, and Jake says nothing. Ivan swallows, feels it struggle past those fingers, and goes still. He feels Jake’s other hand on his skin, slipping his undersuit off him like peeling a banana. Ivan shivers and a frightened squeak leaves his parted lips when cracked finger tips trace the bruises and cuts on his skin. Then it moves lower and Ivan outright whimpers. Jake snorts in amusement and gropes him, his fingers squeezing his flesh hard, leaving more bruises that Ivan hopes he doesn’t have to explain. When one digit creeps into the cleft of his ass, Ivan springs into motion again. Panic takes hold and he forgets that he can barely breath without inspiring dizzying pain in his body, forgets that every inch of him hurts, and that he probably won’t get far, and he _fights_. Screaming finally, he thrashes beneath Jake as if it will somehow be effective. Jake scowls and squeezes his hand around the boy’s throat abruptly, cutting off his screams with a choked gurgle.

Ivan had lost.

Jake continues to hold him down with one hand, and uses the other to work his cock free from his pants. He’s not gentle (not that Ivan expected him to be), even with himself, and Ivan hardly bothers to cry out after the first five minutes. Everything hurts too much, and it’s so fucking hopeless…

He sniffs, and hiccups quietly, faintly grateful that he’s face down as Jake won’t see him cry this way. Jake’s cock is hot and unforgivingly solid inside him, forcing his body to accommodate it. He takes him (Ivan can’t think of a better word for the way that Jake is gratifying himself this way) hard, and slow, making sure Ivan feels every inch, feels the humiliation and helplessness of his position.

Ivan’s glad Jake isn’t broadcasting this, and he prays that none of the other heroes find him like this. Kotetsu especially. The older man had been so confident in him, and this had been his chance to show him that he could be a great hero too! He’d failed, miserably. He just hoped that the information he had gathered would be enough…If he lived long enough to relay it to them, anyway.

 

***

 

When Jake is done he pulls out and wipes his cock on Ivan’s thigh, making the boy shudder, and tucks himself back in his pants before straightening up. Ivan is barely conscious, hanging in limbo between hazy vision of the floor, and merciful darkness, but he’s aware enough of someone else approaching. By the sound of their footfalls, harsh clicks, not stomps, he assumes it’s a woman,

“Lord Jake!” Ah, Kriem. That simpering voice makes Ivan shudder once more. The two talk for a moment, as if Ivan isn’t even there, and he finds himself struggling to breathe again. He hyperventilates for thirty seconds before the first tear falls, and he buries his face in the cold concrete again, hoping they haven’t paid enough attention to hear the first barely smothered sob. Ivan holds his breath, trembling, and tries to hear over the hum of static in his ears.

They’re still talking.

Good.

Ivan concentrates on ceasing the tears then, hoping he can put up a façade before they come for him again. It takes longer than he’d like, and he fights back fresh tears; he’s a shape-shifter, damnit, his only real power is to control how he appears to others, and he cannot even do this…!

 _You saved Edward from Lunatic, though_. Ivan bites his lip, unsure where that thought had come from, though he’d imagined it clearly in Kotetsu’s voice. Kotetsu…What would he say if he saw him like this? Heh, he’d probably smile and find some good in the situation…Ivan smiles faintly at that thought, and tries again.

For Kotetsu. He _can_ do this.

When a hand in his hair drags Ivan from the floor and to his knees, his face betrays nothing more than quiet fear, and defiance. Jake grins at him, a sharp, smug glint in his eyes that makes Ivan feel _filthy_ , but he fights down nausea, and listens to his orders. If he wants to live, he’ll have to comply, and Ivan doesn’t plan on dying here. Not like this.

 

***

 

Ivan is thankful that it’s Kotetsu who is there first, even if he does attack him. It doesn’t matter. Kotetsu is there, and when Ivan’s knees give up, he is warm, and solid and _real_. He smiles, barely, and lets himself drift out of wakefulness once more. Safe in the knowledge that, for all Kotetsu’s faults, he won’t allow him to come to more harm.

It’s over.


End file.
